Mother
by Gunslingers-White-Rose
Summary: Since Alm's mother isn't mentioned at all, why not have some drabbles and such about her? Maybe build on a childhood with her son and maybe establish some more things... Feel free to suggest any ideas on little Alm and his mum.
1. Chapter 1

**AN:** **Well, the game refused to say anything about Alm's mother, so well… That's open to interpretation. Though, I do have a certain hatred for the trope of, "mom is dead so you feel bad now". Which will tell you my feelings towards Mikoto form Fates. So… Let's have a story about something we don't get much of when it comes to Fire Emblem characters, a stable-ish home life.**

…

She breathed deeply, sighing in bliss as she cradled her newly born son in her arms. His hair was like her won, a beautiful shade of emerald that reminded her of the tall peaks of the trees around their home. His soft, round cheeks and the rosy tint of his skin made her smile as she fed him herself.

Though, she feared for her child and that moments like this would be gone in the near future.

For the brand on his left hand made her weep in despair. She knew what was going to happen. Her dear sweet child, her son conceived from love and hardship… She knew he was going to be taken from her. She could see it in the eyes of her husband, who sat on her bedside watching them with a pained look behind those eyes of his.

She gazed up at him, the two of them were like one soul, needing not a single word to pass between them. A simple look from each other's eyes could convey their words and feelings and speak words that they knew not how to make.

He placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing softly. She could feel the warmth from his hand fade, knowing his distress. She cocked her hand and rested it on his hand, her eyes going down back towards their one and only child.

She longed for a child with her husband. After all eight of the past ones… She shut her eyes and felt a horrified shiver run down her back at the memories, thankful for the squeeze from her husband to help bring her away from those terrible memories. She sighed and let her eyes fall again on their child. She let out a shuddering breath, thankful they could have such a moment by themselves. The Midwife and the assistant had been sent away after vowing silence for what had transpired in the room.

Alm had made a small sound as he stopped feeding from her, causing her to straighten up and gently place him on her chest to start patting his back, humming an old Rigelian lullaby her own mother had sung to her in the past.

"So that is your answer."

She nodded at the words from her husband, she knew she could not let her own son go. She knew there is going to be much hardship, she knew she was going to say goodbye. But she couldn't let go of her child, she wanted so desperately to keep her child with her, to stand by her husband's side and show off their child to all of the nobles who scorned her in the past, to finally stop the dismayed looks coming from his sister, to finally…

…to finally be seen as a woman.

She did not even know her eyes had begun to form tears, though this didn't surprise her when she felt the gentle touch of her husband wipe away the fallen tears on her cheeks. Her deep blue eyes darted up towards his own black coal like eyes. Her face marred by the choked sobs coming from her and her uneasy smile spoke to him.

He shut his eyes and pulled his family into his embrace, for the first and only time that his wife had ever seen of him…

…was his own tears.

…

Downing potion after potion, did she stand and wrap her child up tightly in his sling around her. She had already donned a maid's simple dress and bonnet, hiding away her hair and figure to anyone who happened to see her during these crucial moments.

She shushed her child, storing away some necessities in a small bag that she would take with her. No finery, no jewels, just the simplest of cloth and delicates for herself and her son. Well, she did sneak in one or two trifles. She did take her pendant from her husband, her silver flower cloak clasp and a well made stuffed bear for her son.

Strapping her bag to herself and checking that she was packed, she let herself look at her shared quarters that her and her husband shared for these past few years. The canopied bed they spent every night beside each other, the vanity that held all her jewelry, hairpins and make up, the armoire that held their baser clothes… Even letting her gaze fall to the armor stands that held her and her husband's battle attire.

She ran her hand along the fine silk of the white dress before, the silver and gold spun threads that adorned it with the dual light green capes that attached to the thin shoulder straps, along with the white feathered wings attached. It was the most elegant and magically resonating piece of work that the Duma Faithful had made for her in the priory she stayed at her entire life before marrying her husband. She let her eyes fall one last time on the golden wreath adorned with the full blossomed solid gold Dahlia. She wore this dress when she married him, she wore this dress when she fought beside him in the fights against their foes, she wore this dress when she stood before the court to tell them of her pregnancy with her children.

She let her hand fall away from the dress and gazed one last time at the armor her husband wore for their marriage and in every battle he rode into. The dark blue, almost black armor shone back at her with its long black cape that had seen much wear and tear from its battles with the symbol of Rigel on the back. The armor and dress robes beneath wear adorned with gold and pleated cloth peaked from under the obsidian infused steel. The obsidian crown had many barbs, but it had two large imposing horns in the front, giving the armor set an imposing aura.

She knew these sets of armor would not be seen on their bodies ever again.

She stepped backwards, away from the last two reminders of their lives together in this room. She took a deep breath and left their quarters, taking all of the secret passages to avoid being seen. She was quick, silent and careful as she made her way into the stables, seeing her husband wearing a new set of armor. Red and gold… It didn't suit him, she thought. She took a deep breath and stepped forward to see Sir Mycen of Zofia with him.

Mycen asked what was going on, but with the words from her husband he knew. She nodded and started her walk towards Mycen before she was grabbed by the arm by Rudolf. She stopped and looked up at him, not noticing Mycen cough and turn his gaze away as her husband bent down to give her one last kiss. She squeaked in surprise, having thought that he would want their departure to be swift and without contact. Apparently not. She sighed into the kiss, her hands reaching up to run through his snow white locks one last time.

They parted all too soon, their bodies separated and their souls crying out in agony. Neither wanted to other to go, but they both knew it had to happen. How else was their son to live? They continued to grasp each other's hands before they finally separated when she climbed onto Sir Mycen's horse. She closed her eyes and broke their contact, feeling Mycen climb on behind her and start to call the horse to move.

The night was young, but they needed to cover as much ground as possible to get away from Rigel.

No longer was she going to be Queen Almeidia of Rigel. She was going to be Lady Medea, only daughter of Sir Mycen and recent widow and mother.

…

 **Just something short to get started. This isn't going to be some long epic, just short drabbles of Alm and his mother. Maybe show some moments of the two of them together, maybe show some tender moments. Any suggestions or ideas would be greatly appreciated!**


	2. Chapter 2

_**I'm gonna update Real with a new revision after taking you guy's advice**_

...

The ride from Rigel to Zofia was long and hard, it took them weeks to reach Zofia. Many sleepless nights, spending only hours in one place before leaving to the next.

She only heard parts of rumors as she wandered nearby Sir M- Father. Father, he is now Father.

She is now Medea, daughter to Sir Mycen and recent widow and mother to her only son, Alm. Repeat it. She is now Medea, daughter to Sir Mycen and recent widow and mother to her only son, Alm. Repeat it...

All she knew is that returning home was not an option, it was never an option anymore since she resolved to leave with Alm.

The people were not silent, either. News of the death of the Queen of Rigel spread like wildfire. And like fire, her name was turning to ash. The people reviled her already, a useless woman who couldn't bear an heir for the King, dying in childbirth and refusing to give the King a single child. What else would a woman of such low birth status have been?

It made her sick.

Of course they wouldn't talk about how much she loves her husband, or how she fought beside him when his siblings started their war for the throne or even how she cared and tended the wounded of every battle she had been a part of.

They only cared about her birth status and how she hadn't been able to carry a child to term.

Bastards. All of them.

She could only hold her child close and hope they could escape Rigel without anyone the wiser.

...

The cross into Zofia was stark and eye opening.

The Zofians were vastly different from the Rigelians, it was almost like night and day.

The Zofians were happy, plump, without a care in the world and to be frank, Almeidia was disgusted with them already. The Rigelians are hardy, strong, they are rational and never take their prizes for granted!

No, stop it.

She has to pose as a Zofian, she can't have a distaste for the people she supposedly grew up with. She must be... Cordial with these fat, lazy, gluttonous, idiotic-

Breathe. Just breathe.

This is for Alm. That's why she is here. She is here to bring Alm to safety and raise him.

Come to think of it, maybe she could use her bitterness to her advantage? She is supposed to be a grieving widow taking refuge with her father without a coin to her name...

Yes. This could work. She still had many weeks to go until they reached their destination, which means she has many weeks until she needs to put her act on stage. This is all for Alm.

...

"You can't be singing those songs to him, Medea."

She stopped singing the lullaby to her son, who was fussy that morning. She had to pause before registering that he was talking to her. "And why is that? It's only a song."

"It's Rigelian. People would find that strange to hear a child be so familiar with a Rigelian song instead of a Zofian one." Mycen commented, patting his horse as hit rested from the long ride they had through the night. His eyes were showing the effects of the long times he went without sleep. The man could pass for Rigelian with that attitude.

"Fine. Take another thing away from my son. What next? Shall you take his toy as well?" She knew she was being unfair, it was all to keep her son safe. But the long times on the roads made her antsy and prone to anger.

How is her dear Rudolf taking this?

"That's not what I mean and you know it, Medea." He shot back, the man glancing towards her. "I only tell you this to protect him. That is what Rudolf-"

"No." She cut him off, holding her son closer to her. "Please, I beg you. Don't speak his name. I cannot bear to hear his name."

They were silent, all except Alm who was still fussing. Sir Mycen did not say anything else until they were back on the horse and continued to ride south. "Keep that feeling. It will help you in hiding you in the village."

Almeidia only nodded.

...

The reached Ram village in only a weeks time, the roads of Zofia were much safer and quieter than the ones in Rigel. That will be the only time she will concede to Zofia. The sun was falling over the horizon when they reached Ram village, not much fanfare was given until the people recognized Sir- her father.

They asked a couple of questions, why is he here, who is that with him, what has happened.

Time to set the stage and perform her best.

She rocked Alm, humming to herself, slightly rocking in place and summoning up wetness in her eyes. Yes. Perfect.

The villagers looked on at her with pity, father telling them how he has brought his only daughter to Ram Village to live quietly with her only son. She did not speak, giving him a look that told him to play along.

"She has been through so much, I'm afraid she is quite frail and timid at the moment. We would like to retire home and get settled in. Good night." At that, S- father grabbed the reins of his horse and rode them to the third largest house in the village, their new home.

Like clay, she handled the people. Her act bought her some sympathy and maybe had set the stage for the years to come.

"All for you, my son." She would tell her sleeping son who lay in his first crib.

"All for you."


End file.
